Hope may be
For some
The thing with wings
Flying into the distance
Or even the sprouts
From the eyes of a potato
Growing into the future

Hope
For me
Today
Is sitting on the back porch
Watching Woody
Move around the yard
His old man body stooped and slow
With shovel and some other tool
A long handled scraper kind of thing
One in each hand
To pick up the daily offerings
Of the two dogs

Hope is simply
Wanting the same
Tomorrow
And the next day

With Woody